Damian Wayne Weapon Novels & Stories

And Damian… Damian is a Lycan blooded Alpha. Even if I tried to fight, I wouldn’t last one second. But still, my eyes flick toward the heavy lamp. The corner table. The chair leg. I run through every weapon I could use—every opening I might find. But the answers are all the same. He’s stronger and he will win. The mattress creaks as I sit, bones stiff with dread. I stare at the floor, the lingerie clinging to my damp skin, praying for some miracle, some divine intervention—

He promised as he retracted his hand. Evelyn’s eyes widened. The situation that day was dangerous and Damian had been shot. Was he trying to go back and have a gunfight again? “How are you going to take revenge?” She couldn’t help but ask. Damian smirked, he grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table and took a sip. “I’ll deal with him the Mafia way. By the time I’m done with him, there won’t be any bones left for his family to bury.” Evelyn shuddered at the sudden change in Damian. She had never seen him exude such strong murderous intent before.

We walked through the doorway and into the vast, echoing space. Damien stood there, his back to us, one hand casually resting behind him, but even from this distance, I could see the telltale glint of metal a gun. The same gun. A Glock 17gen5 The latest model, sleek and deadly. At least I knew my weapons. And then my eyes landed on Matteo. He knelt on the cold stone floor, his head bowed, his face utterly devoid of emotion, an unsettling blank canvas. “I guess you were never going to tell me about the letters, right?” Damien’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and laced with a coldness that made my blood ruddy in my skin.

Damian realized he'd gripped too hard. He let go fast. The pain hit sharp through my whole wrist. I looked down at the bruise already spreading across my skin, deep purple forming fast. The dirty work of the Coronelli family had always been Damian's specialty: tracking down debtors, clearing out traitors, the kind of work that built strength and paid well. After years of it, he was stronger than almost anyone, the kind of man who could snap a neck barehanded if he had to.

Damian asked, a murderous glint in his eyes. "Alright, then. You can't blame me for being ruthless this time." With that, Damian suddenly stood up and grabbed the stun gun from the table.

THE CRACK Damian saw the opening. The Architect was distracted, clawing at the burning matter on his chest. Damian ran. He used the shattered terrain as a ramp. He launched himself into the air. He raised the Hammer. The Architect looked up. "NO." Damian came down like a meteor. He aimed for the crack in the Architect’s chest the spot where the molten mud was burning through the armor. CRACK. The Hammer hit the weak point. It wasn't just a physical blow. It was a conceptual one. The Ancient Weapon made to

I wasn’t going to die here. Then, a deafening gunshot echoed through the room. The man with the gun collapsed, blood seeping from a wound in his chest. I turned to see Damian standing in the doorway, his expression murderous. His gun was still raised, smoke curling from the barrel. His gaze snapped to me, scanning for injuries. When he saw I was unharmed, his grip on the weapon tightened. “Get down,” he ordered, his voice sharp. Before I could move, he was already tearing through the room like a storm. The next few moments were a blur—gunfire, screams, bodies dropping one by one. Damian was a force of nature, ruthless and efficient, taking down every last intruder without hesitation.

Damian hadn't been expecting this. He had underestimated us. "Keaton!" I cried over the fray. He turned his head toward me, nodding once before using his spear to block a wolf from lunging at him, smashing the creature down onto the sand with all of his strength. But my outburst had drawn the attention of someone else, Damian, who had been standing dumbfounded as he watched his warriors get completely overrun. He stalked toward me, pulling a knife from his pocket.

Alpha Damien replied like he was speaking to an old friend. " How does it feel to be helpless? I promise you that searching for us is a waste of time. I can only be found when I want to. Your friends can try their hacking prowess. I am way smarter than that." Wayne boasted and erupted into an evil laughter. " What exactly fo you want? Didn't you say you wanted Zeta. Where is Adrien?" " None of your business. Did you think I was going to truly return Adrien? I don't want to say it but that's fucking dumb." Wayne said.

"You're not going to let that go, aren't you?" "Nah," I murmured. "I was there for business," he explained. "Does it have anything to do with the gun on your waist?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. Damian smiled and reached between us- grabbing the handle of his gun and pulled it out. It was my first time seeing one up close and I realised that I might have treaded the waters too deep. Damian could quite literally kill me with a flick of his finger.